Roadhouse Records
by ElcaBubble
Summary: Band AU. Castiel is the son of a world renowned music producer, Dean is the frontman of the band currently recording at the Roadhouse Studio. Contains disability, and implications of rape. Destiel. Dean/Cas I don't own any of the characters. If I did I would not be writing fanfiction
1. Chapter 1

"Hey," Castiel looks up from the photo he's holding "Do you remember when we first met?" Dean laughs a little and continues to move the cardboard box he's currently holding.  
"You mean back when we were recording at your dad's studio and you came running in soaking wet and started to freak out because we were sat on your couch?" Cas nods, looking down flush with slight embarrassment at the event 20 years previous. Dean laughs again. "Because, yes, I remember it to the way your shoe laces were flopped across the carpet." It's Cas that laughs this time, walking towards his husband who in turn places a chaste kiss to his lips.

* * *

The rain poured heavily down in a seemingly endless stream against the thin glass of the Roadhouse Recording studio. The quaint cottage sat back against a long winding river far out in middle of Ireland. Roses ran around the outside and up the walls of the Tudor esque building, their scent assaulted the senses the moment you pulled up the long winding forest drive. The studio's thatched roof was three shades darker brown, soaked from the weeks' worth of relentless rain. Puddles the size of small paddling pools churned up the gravel and made navigating the driveway dangerous. But that was normal for Ireland; good weather was a myth come autumn.

Lucifer Milton stood lent up against the window frame of his front room. He didn't care much for the rain, nor did he worry about his only son who was currently walking the family dog through the down pour. Who Luce did worry for was the four twenty-somethings who were currently late for their arrival to the Roadhouse.

Lucifer was a world renowned music producer who had worked with everybody who was anybody in the music industry. The band he was currently awaiting was an up and coming indie group named Impala. Their first album had done well and the lead singer, Dean something, had quickly become the poster boy for teenage girl crushes.

At first Lucifer had been reluctant to work with the boys; he disliked young new artist, they were too volatile and didn't appreciate good music. It was his son, Cas, that had made him reconsider. Cas had kind of always taken a backseat in Lucifer's life and they had become even more detached after the accident some years ago. Although Cas would never admit it, he wished his father would act more like a father and less like a land lord that didn't charge rent.

For the last few months Lucifer would return home to the Roadhouse to find Impala's first, self-titled album playing. And so out of love for his son and a want to reconcile their relationship, Lucifer had agreed to produce the new album for his son's favourite band.

He hadn't told his son that the next lot of college dropouts that would be sharing their home for the next two months were Impala, not that he would have even if Cas had asked.

The deep rumble of a '67 Chevrolet Impala and the teeth grating sound of wet gravel being compressed had brought Luce back to the real world.

He stepped through into the hall and grabbed a couple of towels and opened the door to the soaking kids.

The eldest, and the front man of the group, stood forward and accepted the towels with a grateful smile and held out his hand. "Dean Winchester, sir, and can I say what an honour it is to meet you!" a slight southern twang made its way into the boys voice.  
"Well Dean, I'm 'pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name'." Lucifer's face held a confident smile as he shook the boy's hand firmly once and dropped it. He was sure the reference would be lost on the kid.  
"I just hope I know the nature of your game." Dean replied coolly, earning an impressed grin from the elder man. The younger man stepped backwards and pushed each member of his group forward respectively. "Sir, this is my little brother Sammy," the long haired boy nodded shock Lucifer's hand and muttered a quiet "Sam" which his elder brother promptly ignored. "Our cousin, Gabriel Novak" the short boy had equally long hair and a lollipop hanging from his mouth, which he removed to practically shout a bright 'hello'. "And finally, our friend Balthazar Roché" The blonde boy shook Lucifer's with a firmer grip than he had expected from the young man.  
"It's a pleasure, sir" Balthazar spoke with a strong English accent.

Lucifer helped the band retrieve their bags and showed them upstairs to their rooms.

With the full bottom floor turned into a recording studio, everything that made the Roadhouse the Milton's home was upstairs. The staircase its self was lined with photographs of Lucifer, his late wife Claire and their son Castiel, along with photos of Lucifer with several of the higher profile bands that had recorded there.

The carpet was a darkish blue that matched the small flowers that decorated the wall paper, neither of which had been replaced since Claire had put them in over twenty years ago. The stairs made way to the corridor of which every room stemmed from. The first two rooms on the left were the spare rooms set out for any artists that wanted to stay at the studio rather than deal with an hour car journey to the nearest hotel. Both rooms were set out similarly, pale yellow walls, two double beds with yet more flowers on the bed sheets, a standalone wardrobe with full length mirrors on the doors and an adjoining all white bathroom.

The next door down from the second spare room was out of bounds to guests. It was again set out as the rooms before but with only one bed. Everything in the room had its place and it was pristine. Only one photograph resided on the desk that replaced the second bed, the silver frame held Castiel's most precious possession, the only picture left of him and his mother.

The two doors opposite revealed the kitchen that would be shared by both the band and the Milton's. A small four seated dining table with mismatched stools sat back against a bay window, an old kitchenette that could barely pass for useable was connected to the left wall, white cupboards that ran along the top of the kitchenette that had paint peeling from the doors and white and black tiled flooring. It looked run down but somehow made it feel more homely.

The fifth door at the end of the hallway was Lucifer's bedroom. It was blue and simple with a few items of clothing strewn across the floor but only on his side of the room. The other side, Claire's side, remained untouched. Everything where she'd left it, as though she'd just left home for a few days. Her side of the room was spotless; her side of the bed was made every morning, the sheets that had long since stopped smelling like her, pulled tight over the mattress in the way she'd have liked. Lucifer slept on the couch or in a spare room most nights now. The thought of the empty bed too much to bare.

Once the boys were settled, Lucifer took them downstairs to show them around the studio. It had several mismatched couches in different corners, each room had at least two wall sized windows, and the ones in the back rooms were bay to overlook the river. Lucifer had found over the years that comfortable, cosy, well lit conditions worked best for most artists; though he was unsure of whether these kids would want to sleep through the days and work at night, he was never sure with the young ones.

Lucifer was in the middle of telling the band a story about the time Bono had attempted to act out the beginning scenes of The Lion King with the old family car when the front door banged open. Lucifer jumped up and grabbed one of the towels that had been left abandoned on the side in an attempt to stop the soaking wet Border collie colliding with everything in sight.

"Castiel! Get the bloody dog!" Lucifer shouted through into the hallway. A boy of no more than nineteen appeared round the corner. His shock of brown hair was dripping wet and stuck to his face, he had bright blue eyes that shone brighter than the lightning the rain had brought with it.

Having grabbed the dog, the boy looked up at the four men sat on his sofa. His eyes had grown wide as he stared in disbelief. The boy's jacket was hanging open slightly and Dean caught sight of the reason the boy looked so freaked, the shirt he had on had Impala's logo sprawled across the front of it.

Without a word the boy took off up the stairs toward his bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

"I am so sorry about him." Lucifer turned from where his son had previously been standing towards the four strangers. "That's my son, Castiel; he's rather shy around new people."  
Dean stood up still gazing after the timid boy. "No, no, it's okay"

Castiel flung himself down onto his bed not caring that he was soaking wet. How could his father do that to him, make him embarrass himself in front of his favourite band. Then again, Cas supposed that his father wouldn't know or care what his musical preferences were.

Cas could only hope that the band wouldn't care about his existence, it's not like they couldn't have noticed him flail about once he'd seen them. And to top it off he was wearing one of their shirts. That, he could hope, might not have been seen.

His curtains were open but the on-going storm outside meant that not much light passed through the rain streaked windows.

He felt the constant rain was reminiscent of his relationship with his father. It seemed that the sun only shone when his mother was still around.

Castiel loved his mother more than anything and only missed her more with every passing moment. Missing Claire used to be the only thing Castiel had in common with his father, now he wasn't even sure they had that.

Castiel only kept his room yellow because it was Claire's favourite colour. His current mood dictated the walls should probably be as dark as his thoughts.

Quite content to wallow in his own misery at what a complete twat he was, Cas sat up, removed his socks and shoes and picked up his beloved guitar.

Between his university course and looking after the house, this was how Cas always was, sat on the end of his bed with his bare feet planted firmly on the floor and his guitar on his lap. Being from a musical family, Cas had several guitars but the most played out of them was the ocean blue Guvnor his uncle brought him nine years ago for his tenth birthday.

Feeling the vibrations as his fingers danced over the frets was the happiest feeling in Cas' life. It was home to him

The clock on the wall told the boys it was gone eleven and Dean decided to take his leave.

Making his way into the dark corridor to try and find the stairs, a noise that most definitely wasn't his brother beating Lucifer at darts drifted down the staircase.

No, it was the beautiful sound of an acoustic guitar being played for all it was worth. Is that… is that Castiel playing? Dean wondered. It wasn't a song he recognised and the Milton's were famously a very musical family.

A part of Dean wanted to go into his room and ask him to teach him how to play so well but the rational part of his mind remembered how freaked the kid looked when he'd seen Dean and how shy Luce said he was.

Dean savoured every step he took up the shadowed staircase, willing Castiel to carry on playing.

The tune Castiel was currently playing stopped and Dean froze on the spot willing him to continue.

Thankfully after a moment, the boy did. This time with a song that Dean knew off by heart, his favourite in fact: Kansas- Dust in the Wind.

Dean's room was the second door down, right next to Castiel's. Once he'd reached the door, Dean couldn't bring himself to open it. Going into his room felt final; like he'd finished listening to Castiel play forever despite the thin walls making Dean certain he'd still be able to hear the music just fine.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been stood outside Castiel's room but the touch of a hand on his shoulder made Dean jump higher than he had thought possible.

"Sir, I'm sorry! I wasn't being creepy or…" Dean flailed as he turned to face Lucifer.

Lucifer didn't react; he just shook his head and sat down against the wall gesturing for Dean to follow.

Lucifer wasn't an idiot; he'd seen the way the kid had stared after his son earlier that evening, so he expected Dean to make some kind of a pass at Castiel.

"He's good isn't he?" Luce asked the boy, the hall way dark and the sound of Cas' playing and the shouting and jeering from the other boys down stairs were the only sounds to be heard.

"He's been playing since he was six. His mother never wanted him to get into music but I always knew it was inevitable." Luce hooked his hands over his knees, looked towards Dean and then lent his head back against the wall. "I'd leave it a while before you try to talk to him. Cas is, well, different. Not necessarily in a bad way, just different. He hasn't had the best time of it lately and he's reserved in general. He's not been right since his mother passed."

Lucifer stood and started towards the kitchen. "Oh, and Dean? Don't tell him about this conversation. He and I don't exactly have the best of relationships."

Dean nodded and Lucifer took his leave. If there was one thing that Dean Winchester understood it was parental relationship issues.

Dean really felt like he had a connection with this boy which was stupid and childish because he hadn't even spoken to Castiel. He'd barely even gotten a proper look at the boy. In fact, all he'd ever done in relation to the kid was scare him off and then creep outside his room for god knows how long. It wasn't the best start to a potential relationship Dean had ever had. God, he didn't even know if Cas was gay.

Castiel finished playing through Plug In Baby and set his guitar down in its case. He'd calmed down a bit since he'd started playing, the feeling of the tight steel strings under his fingers always helped.

Standing up from his bed, Cas moved over to the window. The rain hadn't stopped pouring but thankfully the thunder had long since passed.

Cas loved Ireland with all his heart. He loved the people, the beer, the landscapes, hell, even the weather. There was something about the rain, how tenacious it was in its mission to completely soak everything; Castiel admired it.

Cas pulled his shirt and jeans off and hung them on the radiator in an attempt to remove the rest of the lingering dampness.

Trotting over to his bed, he pulled on his pyjama bottoms and curled up under his covers.

He spent most nights like this, curled up in the foetal position with a pounding headache from crying over something. Going to sleep was the worst part of Castiel's day. He'd dream about his mother and he'd be so happy and then he'd be forced to watch her being torn away from him again; over and over again every night, his brain relentless in its torture. He'd tried sleeping tablets and other sleep remedies but nothing worked. Every night he'd watch Claire die.

Sobs wracked through Castiel at the thought. No amount of therapy could cure this. It was something he would always have to live with, a part of his very being right down to his soul. Damaged goods until the end. How could anyone want that? Especially not Dean Winchester. Why the thought of it had ever occurred to him when he first caught sight of his long term crush sat on his couch, Cas did not know.

No, no one would ever love him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry it's been such a long time since I've updated. This chapter's been a bitch to write so it's not at my highest standard. Sorry!**

* * *

Four days had passed since Dean's conversation with Lucifer and the preparations for recording the album were in full swing: previously written material was being changed and added to following the expert advice of Lucifer, tips for interviews and on screen performances were given from some of Lucifer's famous friends should they stop by and, as usual, the rain kept pouring down.

Dean hadn't seen Castiel since the day they had arrived. This was a fact that Dean spent his spare time trying to change.

* * *

Castiel had spent every waking moment trying to ovoid the band. He couldn't shake the feeling that the band he admired so much were laughing at this every doubted he'd be able to recover from his disastrous introduction to them. Besides, who'd want to be friends with that much of a freak?

Castiel leant his head against his car window not caring that the glass behind his head fogged up due to the temperature outside the car.

Cas had once again been publicly humiliated in front of the entire arts block of his University. He was tired of being the weakling who was constantly being picked on, he was sick of being the weird one whose mom died. He didn't even want to be worshipped because of his dad; he just wanted to be left alone.

Cas brought his attention back to the road as he entered the long shadowy driveway that led to his house; the twists and turns entirely familiar to Castiel.

Stepping inside the hallway his father caught his attention forcing Castiel to look at him, unfairly unwilling to take on board what he had to say.

"Hey, Cas, the guys and I think there's something missing from the song they just recorded. I know you're good at being able to pick up on these kind of things, I mean, I know I have no right to ask you anything but do you think you could come in and give us your opinion?" Lucifer looked optimistically at Castiel, his eyes begging for his only son's help.

Lucifer had asks his son to assist in the editing of songs for bands before; it seemed that Castiel had quite the talent for filling out music and making it much more pleasant to listen to. Any band that Cas had helped had automatically asked why he wasn't producing with Lucifer the majority of the time, to which Cas always shook his head and took his leave.

Castiel lowered his eyes from his father's and tried to think of a valid reason for why he couldn't help Impala. Any excuse to make sure he wasn't in the same room as them.

Seeing no get-out-of-jail-quick, Cas nodded without looking up and walked swiftly into the recording studio.

Getting the score up onto the computer screen, he played the song in question.

Cas concentrated with every inch of his being, staring with great intent at the screen in front of him, hands placed flat on the table next to each speaker.

The room was silent whilst Cas examined the piece.

Dean was fascinated by the intense expression on Castiel's face, the boy far more beautiful than Dean remembered; his eyes were far bluer.

The music stopped and Castiel made no comment, he just closed off the window of the score and opened the editing software; he added a syncopated drum beat to counter the first and then changed the bass line to cover a larger range of the notes used.

The brown haired boy once again opened up the now changed score and played the song with its alterations.

The new and improved song left the room in stunned silence. Cas ducked his head and left the still stunned room at an incredible pace.

Dean jumped upwards from the sofa and ran in the direction that Case left in the direction that Cas went.

To his disappointment the door leading into the distant teenager's room slammed shut the moment Dean reached the top of the stairs. Facing his defeat, the boy turned and walked back into the recording room.

A lot of fuss was made by Sam over how good the new sound sounded after Cas' input, he kept asking Lucifer where he had learned to edit music like that.

Lucifer just shrugged it off and told Sam that Castiel had always been able to make something sound better than it did, "it must just be a natural talent" Lucifer had smiled. After every question though, Lucifer would catch Dean's eye and smile is an almost sinisterly knowing way.

At least, Dean thought, if his dad is encouraging me to talk to Cas, he must be some form of gay. The idea did put at least some part of his mind to rest.

* * *

"Guys, I'm gonna hit the hay." Gabriel yawned and stood up promptly followed by Balthazar who had also decided that not much else was going to happen that night.

Once everyone else had left, Sam turned towards his elder brother. "You know it's kinda weird, your whole 'crushing on Luke's son' thing."

Dean looked up from his guitar. "What'd you mean?"

"Well, it's not like you actually know the guy, Dean. You can't just force yourself on him. Besides, we'll be going back to America after we've finished recording."

"I know, you're right, Sammy. I just… I dunno…there's something about the guy. I want to know more about him."

"Alright, Dean, just…just be careful, yeah?" Sam stood up and made towards the door. "I'll see you later."

It was a while later when the clock struck twelve that Dean's fingers loosened from aimlessly plucking the strings of his guitar.

* * *

It was early when Dean awoke, the light of dawn streaking across the room from the window. His neck ached from where he'd fallen asleep at some point during the night. Not that he wasn't used to passing out against the side of a couch.

The house was still, the only noises were the light snores coming from Sam in the room above and the muffled crackling of the amp he'd left on.

It was peaceful, until Dean heard a bang from in the hallway.

"Cas?!" He called from the doorway of the front room.

The brown haired boy was stood at the bottom of the holding his hand in pain. He didn't react to Dean's call.

Worried, Dean walked over and tapped Castiel's shoulder making the other boy start and look up at Dean who leaned over him.

"Dude, you okay?" He stepped back to allow Castiel to stand up fully.

Cas gave Dean a small smile and nodded.

Taking a deep breath Dean asked the question that had been playing on his mind for a while "Why won't you talk to me?" The silence that followed was deafening.

Castiel walked forward toward the table which held the house's landline.

"Cas, I'm sorry if I…" Dean cut his apology short when he realised that Castiel was writing something on a note pad he's taken from the table.

'_It's not that I won't talk to _you, _I don't walk to any one.' _The boy handed the pad over and glanced shyly at the floor before returning his gaze to Dean.

"Why?"

'_My voice isn't exactly easy to understand. I haven't spoken in years.'_

"Surely it can't be that bad?"

Castiel just shook his head and headed out into the rain.

It felt like a weight had been lifted but a new one had taken its place upon Cas' shoulders.

Dean clearing didn't think that he was an embarrassment but after that conversation, Cas had almost definitely cemented the fact that he was a freak in Dean's mind.


End file.
